


Buried Deep

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)



Series: Holly's Round Eight H/C Bingo Card [7]
Category: Prisoners of Peace Series - Erin Bow
Genre: Gen, Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 04:34:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11372673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice
Summary: The walls around Elián are rough against his skin, and the room is dark, buried underground as he is certain it is. He's lost track of time down here, the pain and threats alternating with cajoling and what might as well be bribes and keeping him from being able to tell how long it's been. Sleep has been elusive, but it's not for lack of trying. He allows himself to close his eyes as he leans his head against the rough stone, reaching for sleep that he doubts will come.Elián adjusts to life at the Precepture. Sort of.





	Buried Deep

The walls around Elián are rough against his skin, and the room is dark, buried underground as he is certain it is. He's lost track of time down here, the pain and threats alternating with cajoling and what might as well be bribes and keeping him from being able to tell how long it's been. Sleep has been elusive, but it's not for lack of trying. He allows himself to close his eyes as he leans his head against the rough stone, reaching for sleep that he doubts will come.

Instead, all he can see is Greta.

Greta is nothing like he'd expected, though, to be fair, he isn't certain what he expected. Her regality had always been clear in the vids he'd seen, but back then she'd always been distant and untouchable. For all that he'd always considered her out of reach, though, now that he's here, he can't reconcile the girl he'd seen on the vids with the girl that he sees before him. This Greta is real. Here. Touchable. _Grounded_ in a way that he'd never really connected to the world leaders. Her focus on attending to the tasks of the Precepture even as her country teeters on the brink of war is at once incredible and unbelievable.

He scrapes his palm against the stone, not so much in an attempt to draw blood (though he's pretty sure he manages that too) but more to ground himself.

It's strange, somehow, to watch her here in the place that has been her home for so long. He doesn't know how anyone could consider this a home—no comforts, no parents, no people save the other hostages—but she seems to. She moves like a queen with the eyes of a citizen and he doesn't know how to reconcile that with the unfeeling girl he'd thought he'd find.

He presses his thumb hard against the ground, feeling the dirt and dust make its way under his thumbnail.

The others too. Elián doesn't know as much about them—doesn't know anything about them, honestly—but all of them seem to be accepting of their fate here in a way that he doesn't understand. The Precepture system is wildly outdated and positively barbaric, and he won't let himself be lulled into the same sort of complacency the others seem to have fallen into. Their confusion every time he tried to challenge the structures of the Precepture is baffling to him, and he can't help but wonder how much of that is learned from their families rather than learned from the Precepture, the way he is slowly beginning to understand.

He lifts a hand to the machine on his chest, not quite touching it, but reminding himself of its presence.

Because even though Elián tries to convince himself that their reactions are impossible for him to understand, he's beginning to. He's beginning to understand. Indeed, if there is one true teacher that he has learned as a sheep farmer, it's pain. Elián knew the power of pain better than most even before he came here, and the Precepture hasn't pulled any punches in trying to teach him the truth of it even more thoroughly. Pain is a true teacher, and he can feel himself beginning to learn.

He lets his hand fall to his side, unwilling to touch the machine and risk rousing it. Sleep may be elusive, but that doesn't mean he wants to draw the attention of the machines and subject himself to more of their attempts at encouragement. If this is to be his final resting place, then he might as well make the most of the time he has left.

With eyes closed, feigning sleep, Elián begins to plan.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed. [Come hang with me on tumblr!](http://hollyandvice.tumblr.com/)


End file.
